Based on characters created by J. K. Rowling
A/N: So, my cousin, MsEsmeBlack and I were PM-ing the other day and she came up with a brilliant idea for a story: What if Harry Potter found out that Sirius Black had a wife and daughter that were killed before he was sent to Azkaban? Hmm, I thought.
Chapter 1—The Birthday
Harry Potter was sent to the attic, along with Hermione and Ron, to clean No. 12, Grimmauld Place, mostly to keep them out of the way of the adults, but Molly Weasley was determined to make the headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix, livable. The place had been left to decay after the last Black inhabitant died several years before. Kreacher, the family's house elf, for whatever reason, did not maintain the house as he was sworn to do, and spent his days moaning and complaining to the portrait of Mrs. Black about the invasion of the noble house of Black by Mudbloods and blood traitors.
Harry suspected that he was sent to the attic more than the rest of them in order to talk to Sirius, who spent more and more time away from the others. Sirius was especially maudlin these days; as an escaped prisoner, he was unable to help his friends by joining in the Order's missions. All he had done was provide the sanctuary, but he never felt that was enough.
He found him, as he knew he would in the corner of the attic away from the natural light of the window; Buckbeak at his feet, dozing. Sirius was looking at an old photo album, and looked up when Harry walked in. Harry could tell that Sirius had been crying.
"Sirius," Harry said, acting surprised that he'd found him there.
Sirius wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and closed the book and put it in his shirt. "Harry, my boy," he said, trying to sound chipper. "What brings you to the attic?"
"Mrs. Weasley," he said walking toward him. "She wanted me to clean up here."
"Buckbeak has left a bit of a mess. Sorry about that."
"Sirius," Harry began. "You know that everyone appreciates you letting the Order use your house for its headquarters."
Sirius looked at Harry and nodded.
"And you want to do more, but it's very dangerous. I know you'd rather be out there fighting. Never mind what Professor Snape said."
Sirius blew out a breath very slowly. "I know, Harry. I know how dangerous it is, for all of us."
"I wish I could do something for you, you're so sad all the time."
Sirius patted his chest. "Bad time of the year," he said simply. He smiled a sad smile as he walked from the attic muttering something about a meeting later.
Later that evening as they were cleaning the top stair case, Hermione looked at Sirius, who was shuffling around the lower breezeway.
"Does Sirius seem a bit depressed to you?" Hermione asked watching him.
Harry nodded, "Yes, he's been like that all summer. I thought it was because he isn't allowed to go on any missions or anything, but I really think there's something else." Harry began stacking boxes in the far corner. "I asked him what was wrong and all you said was, 'bad time of the year'."
"I wonder what he meant by that?" she said, chewing her fingernail.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know, Hermione, but if he wanted to talk I'm sure he would."
Harry was heading to bed that evening around midnight. The Order had an important meeting and he was waiting around for the older members to finish up and leave. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall had made the meeting and everyone was excited about the news report from Shacklebolt. He walked through kitchen when he spotted Sirius sitting at the kitchen table. He was gripping a half empty bottle of firewhiskey in one hand and a badly torn piece of paper in the other. Harry looked at him and smiled tentatively.
"Sirius, are you all right?"
Sirius looked up drunkenly. He raised the bottle in a salute. "Harry!" he said. "Come here, I want to show you something." He took one hand and smoothed out the paper and handed it to him. It was a photograph; too damaged to be animated, or perhaps it was a muggle photograph, he couldn't tell. It was a picture of a classically beautiful woman who was holding a tiny infant. It looked that the picture was taken in a hospital, possibly when the baby was born.
Harry looked at the picture trying to figure out why Sirius would have it and why it made him so sad. Sirius touched the photo lovingly. "This is Demetra, my wife, and this gorgeous little girl's name is Antaria, our daughter. This was taken the day she was born. Antaria would be sixteen today."
Harry didn't know what to say; he had no idea Sirius was ever married and he sure didn't know anything about having a child. "What happened, Sirius?' Harry asked quietly.
"She and her mother died on the very day that you lived."